


Focusing on the Pain

by AZGirl



Category: Magnum P.I. (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:42:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28059384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AZGirl/pseuds/AZGirl
Summary: The only problem was that he couldn't remember how he'd gotten into that trouble in the first place.
Comments: 20
Kudos: 53





	1. Awareness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Celticgal1041](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celticgal1041/gifts).



> *This story is dedicated to Celticgal1041 in honor of her birthday. Happy Birthday, my friend!*
> 
> For now, only one chapter will be posted per week due to the holidays and the story being not quite complete. Warning: the chapters will be on the shorter side. 
> 
> Takes place not long after 1.01 “I Saw the Sun Rise” but before 1.02 “From the Head Down’.

**ooooooo**

“I focus on the pain

The only thing that’s real”

~~~~~ “Hurt” by Trent Reznor.

**ooooooo**

**Chapter One: Awareness**

Awareness came back to him slowly, his mind barely going at the speed of molasses during a blizzard in January. Time passed, and eventually his wits came back online enough that he had the brilliant idea to open his eyes. It seemed the best way to figure out where he was and why he was feeling so bad.

He made the attempt to open his eyes, and when he finally got them fully opened, he wondered for a moment if something was wrong with his vision – because he couldn’t see anything. He was certain his eyes were open, he could feel himself blinking, though one of his eyes was having a little more trouble with that than the other, sticking slightly each time he opened and closed his left eye. Yet, he couldn’t see anything but black.

His head felt heavy and stuffed full of cotton, and it was so tempting to allow himself to fall back into the place where he hadn’t been in any pain, but his little voice was telling him that was a very, very bad idea. He lay there trying to stay awake, feeling a variety of sensations – the gritty, hard ground beneath his right cheek, the humidity in the air, the unrelenting pain in his head and how it made it so hard for him to keep hold of a single thought. Somehow, it hadn’t yet crossed his mind to move from his position, seemingly content to continue lying on his stomach. 

Eventually, he noticed his world had gone from inky black to a sort of faded gray, proving he wasn’t completely blind, briefly giving him some relief. Now that he could sort of see, even distinguish shapes, he was able to recognize the one right in front of him – a wooden shipping crate.

Shifting his head slightly to get a better look at his surroundings proved a monumental mistake as his head went from feeling slow and heavy to excruciating and his vision whiting out in a microsecond. Immediately, he started to gag, which only increased his pain levels, but it must have been some time since he last ate or drank anything, because only a small amount of bile was brought up.

Grimacing at the horrible taste in his mouth, he knew he would have to move away from the small puddle. Yet, he also knew from just moments ago, that moving again so soon would once again amp up the pain in his head, something he wanted to avoid but knew he couldn’t. The smell of his sick was not helping his queasiness one iota, and he hoped for nose blindness to come quickly. Carefully, he attempted to move back and away from the puddle, but it was barely a couple of inches before he encountered the wall that was apparently behind him.

Where was he? And why was he hiding behind a crate? And most importantly, who was he hiding from and why?

Given his location and his obvious injuries, it could only mean one thing: he was in big trouble.

The only problem was that he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten into that trouble in the first place.

ooooooo

 **Next time:** _Chapter Two: Problems_

**ooooooo**


	2. Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! And to those who celebrate....Merry Christmas!

**ooooooo**

**Chapter Two: Problems**

He shifted his body just enough to be in a slightly more comfortable position, keeping his head as still as possible in order to avoid making it hurt any worse than it already was.

He took a few slow, calming breaths and tried to focus on remembering how he’d come to be in his situation. Nothing came to him, and he couldn’t even remember what day it was.

His best guess – and it seemed to feel right – was that he was on a case, though he had no idea about any of the particulars.

Great. As if he needed another problem.

Speaking of problems, he was really getting annoyed by how itchy the left side of his face felt and the stickiness around his left eye. He carefully reached up to wipe away the stickiness and discovered that it wasn’t the sleep crusty, eye gunk he originally thought it was. Looking at his fingers in the dim light, he found the stickiness was actually drying blood.

Blood?

He was injured?

Which, now that he thought of it, being injured explained a lot about how he was feeling.

Cautiously, he traced the lines of dried blood on his face back to a wound along the side of his head. From what he could tell without actually touching the wound, it was a long gash starting – or perhaps ending – at his forehead.

No memories about how it might have happened came to mind, but it was obviously the source of his likely concussion and certain amnesia. He was just thankful he still remembered who he was, because this situation was bad enough without that added complication.

Letting his hand fall back to the ground, Thomas made another attempt to recall the details of his current case and how it had led him into this predicament. Still, nothing came to him. After a few minutes, he decided to try a different tack.

Suddenly, an image of Rick with his arm in a black sling flashed to the forefront of his mind. With it came a wave of guilt to overwhelm him with the certainty Rick’s injury had been his fault.

More images accompanied the first, and with it, the knowledge that what had led to Rick needing a sling had occurred not long before he’d ended up hidden behind a crate barely able to function. Of course, there was no way to be certain whether that “not long before” was days or weeks ago.

Perhaps if he started with that case and followed the memories forward, he just might be able to recall where he was and why.

It had all started when a woman from Chicago named, Annie Baldwin, asked him to find her husband Sam, who had disappeared several weeks (or was it days?) earlier…

ooooooo

**Next time:** _Chapter Three: Meeting_

**ooooooo**


	3. Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *  
> Wishing you a healthy and happy new year!  
> *

**ooooooo**

**Chapter Three: Meeting**

**_Several weeks (days?) earlier…_ **

His phone’s new-text alert chimed, and he clicked on the attached photo as his new client began speaking. “That’s the most recent photo I have of Sam, taken the weekend before he disappeared.”

Thomas used his fingers to enlarge the photo in an attempt to get a better look at Sam Baldwin’s face, seeing dark, wavy hair and green eyes.

He asked several probing questions, including the ones he always dreaded asking but were absolutely essential regarding mental and marriage status. He’d lost track of how many times he’d been hired to get proof of a spouse’s infidelity.

Annie’s answers proved just how much she loved her husband, how much he seemed to love her, and that she had unwavering faith in their relationship.

Nothing out of the ordinary had happened in the time leading up to the Baldwin’s disappearance. There had been no indication the man would not be home after work that evening.

In fact, Sam and Annie had had reservations for dinner out that night, looking forward to an adults-only evening while their eight-year-old son, Jonah, was at a sleepover at a friend’s house. Sam had called at lunch time to confirm their plans, and that was the last time Annie had heard from her husband.

Worried about him, Annie got the police involved, filing a missing persons report, and they started investigating after the required amount of time had passed. So far, Sam had not been found.

“So why do you think your husband is here in Hawai’i, on O’ahu?” asked Thomas.

Annie reached into her purse and pulled out a postcard, handing it to him. It was of the sun setting in front of a bank of clouds, making the sky a warm orange-yellow color; it also had two backlit palm trees on the left side in the foreground. It was an image that could’ve been taken anywhere the tree could grow.

He flipped the postcard over and saw there was nothing handwritten on the back except for the Baldwin’s home address, and a smudged postmark where he could only make out the date and the state. The copyright information said the card had come from Waipahu, here on O’ahu, and the caption mentioned the sun setting in “paradise.” Seen together, it was definitely reasonable to believe Sam was on O’ahu.

Magnum gestured to the address. “Is this your husband’s handwriting?”

Annie’s expression immediately became downcast, and she shook her head. “No… it’s not.” Taking a calming breath, the blond continued, “But no one we know was going on a trip to Hawai’i or had recently been here. Sam loves sunsets, so I know it has to be from him. Maybe…maybe this was his way of letting me and Jonah know he was alive and thinking of us.”

Magnum nodded his head at her theory. It was certainly a plausible one, but was it the only one? From everything he’d heard so far about the architect, his little voice was telling him there was something more to the man’s disappearance. Perhaps Baldwin really was in trouble and this was a cloak-and-dagger style attempt to protect his family while still reaching out to his wife.

Thomas agreed to take the case, having already decided to do so when he’d heard the couple had a young son. Magnum knew exactly what it was like to grow up without a dad, and he didn’t want to have Jonah experience that if he could help it, especially since he hadn’t been able to do the same for Nuzo’s son. If Baldwin really was in trouble, Magnum would do all he could to help the man and reunite the family.

After a few more questions, he accompanied Annie to her rental car, and told her he would be keeping her updated about the case.

As he walked back to the guest house, he acknowledged the fact that he had a blind spot for kids missing their dads, so he decided it might be wise to have some help on the case. Hopefully, Nuzo wasn’t—.

Thomas sighed and bowed his head as a wave of regret, guilt, and sorrow briefly overwhelmed him. Forcing himself to continue walking, he pushed those feelings and how much he missed his best friend to the back of his mind, and began considering which of his other two best friends he would call first: T.C. or Rick.

ooooooo

**Next time:** _Chapter Four: Permission_

**ooooooo**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun factoid: The postcard described in this chapter is based on one I own. 
> 
> Happy New Year!


	4. Permission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .  
> I hope everyone had a happy (and safe) New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day!   
> .

**ooooooo**

**Chapter Four: Permission**

After flipping a coin, Magnum had called T.C. first, but his friend had a full slate of charters for the next few days and couldn’t get away unless it was an emergency.

He then called Rick, who was working on finishing inventory at the club, but would be able to help out by late afternoon. It was actually perfect because it gave him time to do a background check on Sam Baldwin, and make an attempt to discover if the man was really on the island.

Given its smudged postmark, the architect could have purchased and sent the postcard from any of the islands, but the odds favored O’ahu for where Baldwin was hiding as it is the state’s most populous island. If the postcard was to give peace of mind to the wife, then it mostly worked. However, with her almost immediately jumping on a plane to Hawai’i, and without her son, only gave those threatening Sam a major clue as to his whereabouts if they were paying attention.

Higgins was out running errands, so he used her laptop to run a check on the Baldwin family in general and Sam Baldwin in particular. Nothing on social media or the architect firm’s website stood out to him and gave no clues as to why Sam had disappeared. It actually re-emphasized how much of a good guy Baldwin seemed to be – at least on the surface – so far.

He was in the middle of adding another name to a running list of companies who do business with the firm Baldwin works for, when he heard someone enter the room. About the same time he heard a pair of growls from two annoying dogs. 

“I don’t recall you asking my permission to use my laptop, Magnum,” Higgins said, her voice sounding of more than just simple irritation.

Thomas forced himself to not overtly react to the scolding voice. Instead, he smiled and turned towards the majordomo, hoping to downplay the situation despite knowing he was in the wrong.

“I didn’t think you’d mind since you weren’t home and not using it.”

“That’s your problem. You don’t think. Did you even consider calling and asking my permission?”

No, he hadn’t thought of calling and asking, because he assumed – and probably rightly so given Higgins’ attitude of late – that his request would’ve have been denied. Having her help to find out who killed Nuzo, Magnum had hoped Higgins would be agreeable to lending a hand more often, but he’d been wrong.

“You are absolutely right, Higgins. I should’ve asked first. It won’t happen again.”

He started turning back towards the laptop but stopped and asked, “May I please finish using your laptop, Juliet?”

Thomas wasn’t quite sure what to think about the majordomo’s expression, but it certainly wasn’t good, because Zeus and Apollo stood and growled. He thought her expression warred between: “I can’t believe you had the audacity to ask” and “Why am I not surprised you’d attempt to press your luck.”

After a moment, she said, “Five minutes.”

“Thanks, Higgins,” he said before smiling. “I don’t suppose this would be a bad time to ask a favor?”

Her expression definitely was in the “pressing your luck” category now. “Yes, actually, it would.” Higgins looks at her phone. “Four minutes.”

Not knowing how to hack into phone and credit card records, he’d have to ask Annie to get a hold of them for him. Instead, while trying to ignore Higgins practically breathing down his neck, he focused on finishing the list of names he’d come across during his background check, wanting to show them to Rick. With his brother’s connections, it was definitely possible Rick would have some insight about some of the names.

As he finished the list, he wondered about the records he wanted. If there had been a lead there, wouldn’t the cops have told Annie about it? His client had mentioned more than once that she’d been checking in daily with the detective in charge of her husband’s case, so she probably knew as much as the police.

Higgins cleared her throat and said, “Thirty seconds.” When he looked up, he saw that Juliet was actually keeping track of the time down to the second on her phone.

He quickly cleared his searches and shut down the computer, not wanting to know what she’d do if he went past the five minutes. More than likely the dogs would be involved in such a scenario.

Just before leaving the room, he said, “Thank you for the extra time. I apologize for using the laptop without your permission, and hope I haven’t inconvenienced you too much.”

He smiled as he left the main house; he’d left her just off balance enough with his apology that she forgot to set the dogs on him.

ooooooo

**Next time:** _Chapter Five: List_

**ooooooo**


	5. List

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter is on the shorter side of average for the story.

**ooooooo**

**Chapter Five: List**

Magnum entered the club and looked around, automatically checking for threats as he sought out his friend.

He spotted Rick sitting at a table next to the kitchen, eating what was probably a late lunch. Thomas filled his friend in on everything he knew about his case as Rick ate his meal, the man shoving his half-eaten basket of fries towards him at one point.

When he finished, Magnum said, “Thanks, Rick, for helping out. I’m definitely going to need another pair of eyes on this one, plus it’s always nice to have someone watching my six.”

Rick paused, wiping his hands off on a napkin mid-action and looked at him. “You think there’s going to be trouble?”

“I don’t know”—Thomas shrugged and took another fry from the basket—“but something’s not quite right with this case.”

He popped the fry into his mouth and ate it, Rick finishing cleaning off his hands in the meantime.

“I’m getting the feeling,” Magnum continued, “this has to do with Baldwin’s work life rather than his personal life.”

Rick smiled and reached over to clap him on the shoulder. “Well, Tommy, I learned not long after we met to trust your Little Voice, so what’s next?”—Rick finished his drink—“You mentioned a list?”

Magnum got the list of names he’d made out of his pocket and handed it to Rick, who immediately unfolded it and began to read.

“These are all of the names associated with the architecture firm Baldwin works for that I could tease out of public records.”

He took another fry, this time dipping one end into the puddle of ketchup before eating it. He saw the exact moment when Rick recognized a name on the list.

“How bad is it?”

Rick blew out a breath and replied, “Well, it’s definitely not good. Seems your theory about it being related to Baldwin’s work might be on the money.”

“Which one?” Thomas asked.

“TruBuild, LLC. From what I’ve heard, they’re anything _but_ true.”

“In what way?”

“Rumor has is it they skimp on materials and pocket the cost savings.”

Magnum nodded and considered the implications of what he’d just learned while Rick collected his dishes, including the basket of fries, and took them into the kitchen. He almost said something but mentally shrugged and decided not to. Rick had been great to share with him in the first place, so he shouldn’t complain.

He was so lost in thought he was startled slightly when a small plate of freshly made french fries was placed directly in front of him along with a glass of Hibiscus Watermelon iced tea that the club featured. Thomas took a long drink and smiled, thinking of how much his mom had loved watermelon-flavored anything, a love that had passed onto her son. A love that Rick knew about.

Thomas nodded his thanks and grabbed a couple of fries off the plate he’d been given.

As he chewed, Rick asked, “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking Baldwin went to the building site for whatever reason and saw something was off. His wife had mentioned he’d spent summers doing construction to earn college tuition, so he’d easily be able to recognize shoddy materials or workmanship. He probably tried to do the right thing and is paying for it now.”

“So he bolted to protect his family?”

Thomas nodded and said, “And somehow ended up here. Now all I have to do is find him.”

ooooooo

**Next time:** _Chapter Six: Lead_

**ooooooo**


	6. Lead

**ooooooo**

**Chapter Six: Lead**

“How are we going to find Baldwin?” Rick asked. “The dude could have had a friend buy and send the postcard and might not even be anywhere on the islands.”

“If my theory is correct, then I’m more worried about what happens _after_ we find Baldwin.”

“What about the kid?” Rick asked as Magnum’s phone began ringing. They both knew Jonah would be a perfect pressure point for Sam.

“He’s back east, staying with friends,” Thomas replied as he answered the phone.

On the way to the club, he had called Annie to request the Baldwin’s phone and credit card records. The call was her getting back to him about that, asking for an email address to send the information. He looked at Rick, who nodded, and gave her his friend’s email for the club, thankful they’d be able to print out the documents in the back office.

When asked, he’d lied to Annie and said he’d made not made any real progress in finding her husband, stating he was hoping the records might help.

By the time they entered the office, the email had come through, and Thomas was happy to see more than just the single month of records he’d been expecting. He took the credit card statements and had Rick go through the phone records.

Absolutely nothing stood out on the Baldwin’s various credit card statements, so unless Sam had a secret card or account Annie didn’t know anything about, then it didn’t look like there was a money trail to be followed up on.

What he didn’t get was how Baldwin had managed to get to the islands – assuming he was still in Hawai’i. Until Annie’s expenditures, there was nothing even remotely related to travel expenses, and the man’s passport had not been taken from its usual spot.

Fake papers? It was very difficult for the average person to get good enough travel documents these days without some serious cash, and the Baldwin’s, while comfortable, didn’t have that kind of money. Again, unless there were hidden accounts, it just didn’t—.

“Hey Tommy,” Rick interrupted his train of thought. “You done with those credit card statements? I could use some help here.”

“Sorry, man. I was just—.”

Rick waved off the apology. “Nah, I get it. The case, right?”

Thomas grinned as he grabbed a couple of pages of the printout. “What have you been doing?” he asked, noticing the many of the number on the pages had been highlighted.

“Well, I thought I’d make it easier for myself and use green on all of the calls to/from the three Baldwin’s personal numbers. Blue is for the work numbers. After that, I used yellow to highlight other numbers repeating on a regular basis. The rest, I left as is.”—he shrugged—“I’m hoping you have a way to track down who these numbers belong to.”

Magnum smiled, loving how Rick often tackled a problem by breaking it down visually. It was probably his friend’s sharpshooter skills coming to the fore.

“Wow, thanks man. Anything from TruBuild?”

Rick shook his head. “I looked up the company but could only find an 800 number listed. No clue about any other numbers.”

“From what you’ve said, I’m not all that surprised.”—he grinned—“Let me introduce you to the wonders of the reverse phone number lookup.”

They tackled the list of numbers, starting with the day Sam Baldwin disappeared and worked backward. The last call Sam had made was to his wife Annie, and there hadn’t been anything since from either his personal or work phones.

He did notice a call of very short duration to a shipping company earlier that morning. For some reason, it stuck out at him, and he resolved to check into it further. While Rick continued with the list, he started researching the shipping company.

For some reason, he had a feeling he knew how Baldwin had made it across the country without leaving a trail. Without a doubt, the man had had help, could this be it? It might even be a confirmation the guy had made it to Hawai’i to hide out since the company had a facility on the island.

It was a solid lead he definitely intended to follow up on.

ooooooo

**Next time:** _Chapter Seven: Research_

**ooooooo**


	7. Research

**ooooooo**

**Chapter Seven: Research**

In his research, Magnum found the link he’d been expecting: Baldwin had a personal connection to the shipping company he’d contacted prior to his disappearance. The summer before he’d started college, the man had worked for Port-to-Port Shipping, LLC, and had managed to maintain, to this day, at least one of the friendships he’d made in that job.

It would explain how the architect had managed to get all the way to Hawai’i without leaving an obvious trace for the police or for TruBuild to find. He wouldn’t be surprised if Baldwin had driven himself across country in an 18-wheeler before being smuggled to the islands as part of the crew on one of Port-to-Port’s freighters.

In large, metropolitan cities such as Chicago, the police had far too many cases to follow up on to spend as much time as he could on an investigation and track down numerous possible theories. In such cases as missing persons, the odds favored theories such as self-harm rather than a conspiracy, which was likely part of the reason Annie Baldwin had yet to hear much of anything definitive from the detectives assigned to the case.

It was nighttime by the time he and Rick had finished researching the phone numbers and Thomas had shared his latest theory. The club was definitely hopping if the muffled sounds of the music were anything to go by. He was just thankful the owners had sprung for sound proofing for the back offices. Without it, they would’ve had a difficult time getting anything done.

With the local shipping company office closed for the day, they agreed to meet up the next morning after Rick finished getting some things done at the club. Thomas would’ve preferred heading out earlier, but his theory about Baldwin discovering some sort of malfeasance made him wary of going alone.

Plus, he still had the nagging feeling he was forgetting something, but every time his mind tried to recall whatever it was, the thought would flit away again.

With Rick helping him, Magnum gathered up the pages they'd been working with. When Rick suddenly stopped helping and smacked Thomas in the stomach with his stack of papers, Magnum had to scramble to make a grab for them or risk them, and his own stack of papers, falling to the ground. Rick grinned at the glare Thomas sent his brother’s way before walking towards the office’s door and opening it.

Noise assaulted him, but it wasn’t the usual thump-thump-thump of the club’s dance music. Instead, it sounded like sharp claws raking slowly down a metal chalkboard. It sent a lightning bolt of pain through his head and—.

ooooooo

The pain had jolted him back to the present.

It took him too long to realize that the pain-inducing sound had come from somewhere nearby. He tried to force himself to focus and listen for additional sounds, but couldn’t concentrate enough to do a good job of it. He had no idea what that sound had been either.

Was someone looking for him? And why did he have the feeling only the bad guys, or whoever had hurt him, might have an inkling of where he was?

After what felt like hours but was likely only minutes, the pain in his head decreased back down to about the level it had been before – the constant dull throb he’d unfortunately started to become used to since he first woke up wedged in behind some wooden crates. He was thankful there hadn’t been another sound to batter his senses.

When the relative quiet persisted for a while longer, Thomas tried to remember – and wasn’t that a tad ironic? – where he’d left off in recalling the Baldwin case. He still had hopes it would lead him to more recent memories like how he’d ended up with a head injury bad enough that even the thought of moving his head more than a fraction of an inch made his head pound.

Something about the shipping company? Maybe?

He decided recalling every single, boring detail of the case wasn’t all that necessary and started to mentally fast-forward through his memories of the next few days.

ooooooo

The visit to the shipping company had only strengthened his theory about Baldwin’s method of disappearing. The manager of the facility had said there were no new employees before he’d even asked about the possibility, Magnum having assumed the architect had moved on or was in hiding somewhere on one of the islands. Highly suspicious and something he definitely needed to follow up on.

Thomas considered asking Juliet to help him hack into the company’s records, but he could tell she was still angry with him for using her laptop without permission, if the growls from Zeus and Apollo which came his way when he tried to approach her were any indication. It meant he’d have to look into any new employees the old-fashioned way – breaking in and checking the records himself.

With Rick’s help, they easily bypassed on-site security, but weren’t able to get into the computer due to his limited ability to hack into them. Unfortunately, no one had been careless enough to write down their password somewhere he could easily find, making things more difficult.

While he’d been attempting to get something from the computer, Rick had discovered the company had yet to go completely digital. His friend found several lists of names for crews coming in from the mainland over the past month. Sam Baldwin’s name, nor any of its variations, had not been on any of the lists, but at least they had a place to start.

Magnum still had the feeling he was forgetting something as they continued to work the case, but what it was remained elusive.

With more legwork – both physical and digital – they were able to narrow the list down to one name: Hank Thompson, who seemed to be a ghost, lacking any real records. The address listed for the man was completely bogus, so they decided to stake out the company and hope to get lucky.

Unfortunately, any luck they had quickly ran out.

ooooooo

**Next time:** _Chapter Eight: Spotted_

**ooooooo**


	8. Spotted

**Chapter Eight: Spotted**

It wasn’t until their third day of staking out the shipping company that Baldwin was spotted.

He and Rick had been taking turns staking out Port-to-Port Shipping, hoping to get lucky enough to find Baldwin. They wouldn’t have been able to do it without T.C. thankfully having enough time to take a few short shifts to give them the occasional break and for Rick to check in at his real job.

Rick called to tell him that he’d finally spotted Baldwin not long after a newly arrived freighter had begun to unload its cargo. It seems their quarry was spending as much time as possible at sea to avoid detection.

As he headed towards the shipping company to meet up with Rick, his friend called to say he was on the move, heading inland as he followed the manager’s car where Baldwin was the passenger. Magnum changed direction and followed as best he could with Rick’s occasional updates, having a pretty good idea what part of the island they were heading towards.

With the Ferrari being so noticeable – not that he’d ever admit to that fact – Thomas parked farther away than he would’ve liked and jogged towards where Rick said he was parked.

Rick grinned as he got into the car. “Took ya long enough.”

Thomas rolled his eyes as his friend tilted his head towards an old, two-story building, which might have been a motel at one time, but had been converted into cheap apartments.

“Our boy is in there,” Rick said. “Got lucky and didn’t even need to leave the car to see what unit he’s in.”

“You’re sure it’s him?” he asked, hoping Rick wouldn’t take offense to his question.

“As sure as I can be,” his friend replied with a shrug. “He’s colored his hair. Blond. Cheap dye job.”

Thomas tipped his head slightly in acknowledgment and grinned. Of course, Rick would notice the difference.

“Want to go pay our architect a visit?” he asked.

“Sounds fun,” Rick replied as he reached under the driver’s seat for his gun and checked it.

They got out of the car and headed towards the apartment building, approaching from the side farthest away from Baldwin’s unit.

Knocking on the door several times, it took a few minutes before the occupant answered. When he did, Thomas had confirmation it was his client’s husband – bad dye job and all.

Magnum smiled a bit, hoping to put Baldwin somewhat at ease, the guy already looking wary of them.

“Mr. Thompson? Hank Thompson? I was hoping—.”

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” Baldwin said brusquely, cutting him off. As the architect shut the odor, he continued, “Now, if you don’t mind—.”

Rick stuck his shoe in the door before it could be closed. “Perhaps you’d be interested in what Annie has to say instead.”

Thompson, or rather Baldwin, blanched, and Thomas immediately realized how that might sound if even a part of his theory was correct.

Magnum lifted his hands in an attempt to show he wasn’t armed and didn’t plan to harm the other man.

“No, Sam. It’s not what you think. Annie has not been harmed. I swear. She hired us to find you because she’s worried and Jonah misses you.”

Baldwin didn’t look all that convinced.

Rick rolled his eyes. “Look man, if we were really here to do something you, wouldn’t we have done it by now? You know like, put a gun in your face and threaten you or something.”

Magnum sent a brief glare towards Rick, silently cursing his friend’s contribution, which hadn’t really been all that helpful in his opinion.

“Annie got your postcard. That _was_ you, right? She knew it the moment she saw it, because of the picture of the sunset. Please. We only want to help.”

“You can’t help me,” Baldwin said, misery oozing from every syllable.

“We can try,” Thomas said. “How about you let us inside so we can talk?”

ooooooo

Baldwin let them inside, and after a few minutes, he began to tell his story.

How he’d discovered TruBuild was using substandard materials, charging full price, and pocketing the difference.

How he’d been discovered, threatened, and decided to leave everything he knew behind to protect his family.

How he’d managed to make it to Hawai’i under the radar.

How he couldn’t bear his wife and son thinking he might be dead and sending the postcard in hopes it would somehow reassure them.

The man’s story confirmed his theories and filled in details neither he nor Rick had known.

However, Baldwin outright refused to contact his wife, not wanting to endanger the lives of his family. TruBuild would do anything to keep their secrets, because he suspected there was more than one property built with substandard materials.

It took a while, but they managed to convince Sam to go to the authorities here in Hawai’i, in particular Tanaka, because there was no way the detective would ever be corrupted. After Baldwin consented, he wanted to go directly to the station before he lost his nerve. The architect quickly packed his meagre belongings and they left the apartment.

Thomas spots the men almost immediately. Their suits are out of place, and if he wasn’t mistaken, they had been tailored to conceal weapons.

Because the men might not necessarily be waiting for them, he makes the decision to continue to Rick’s car, keeping an eye on them and waiting to see if they would make a move.

A moment later, Rick said, “Thomas.”

With one single word, Rick managed to impart more than having seen the two suspicious men.

“I see them,” he said, pitching his voice low and feeling as if his luck had changed for the worst.

ooooooo

**Next time:** _Chapter Nine: Gun!_

**ooooooo**


	9. Gun!

**ooooooo**

**Chapter Nine: Gun!**

It quickly became obvious the two men had come for Baldwin and not anyone else who might be staying at the apartment building.

That’s when the penny finally dropped on what he’d been forgetting all this time.

He should’ve considered the fact that Annie making a sudden trip to Hawai’i would be suspicious in light of her husband’s disappearance. Somehow, TruBuild had realized what her trip indicated and followed her, which had led to him. And he’d been stupid enough to lead the bad guys to Baldwin.

At no time had he noticed anyone tailing him, so he wouldn’t be surprised to find a tracking device somewhere on the Ferrari – if he lived to check, that is.

Pretending he hadn’t noticed the two men who had just started towards them, Magnum turned around – unconcerned with leaving his back exposed with Rick close by.

“Aww man,” he said, making sure he sounds a little like he’s whining. “I forgot my ball cap! We need to go back and get it.”

Looking confused, Baldwin said, “But—” while at the same time Rick yelled, “Gun!”

“Go!” Thomas said, pulling Sam along with him as he drew his gun and headed towards the nearest cover – a large dumpster pushed up next to a wall.

When he heard the first gunshot, he ducked reflexively, hoping none of them had been hit by the bullets aimed their way. Rick’s gun answered the shots with some of his own, while Thomas continued to shield Baldwin.

Somehow they made it to cover without being shot, and Thomas handed Sam his phone.

“Call the police and then get between the dumpster and the wall.”

After Baldwin nodded, Thomas joined Rick in defending their position. When Rick had to reload, he slowed his rate of fire, trying to conserve ammunition.

Magnum heard his name yelled only seconds before he was tackled to the ground as he heard two gunshots coming from behind their position. He wasn’t sure why Rick was taking so long to get up off the ground, but knew they couldn’t dawdle or the other shooters would take advantage. As he got back into position, he saw that the dude who had tried to flank them from behind had been killed, and was thankful for Rick’s skills as a sharpshooter.

He immediately spotted another guy trying to flank them and starting shooting, managing to hit him with what looked to be a kill shot. Thomas then moved back to his original position, hoping Rick would finish reloading soon. He’d only brought one spare clip, not having anticipated a firefight. Even with conserving his ammunition, it didn’t look good for them unless the cops arrived soon.

When one of the two attempted to gain an advantage, he managed to hit the guy in the side. He was down to the last few bullets when he finally heard sirens heading towards their direction.

The one uninjured goon picked his cohort up off the ground and started dragging him away, which left him with an opening he couldn’t resist. He wasn’t the marksman Rick was, but at this distance he was fairly accurate, and he shot the final man in the leg which brought the two down in a heap. With the sirens closer than ever, Thomas broke cover from the dumpster, and held his weapon on the two men, kicking away the gun the one man had managed to keep hold of when he and his fellow bad guy had fallen.

The cops arrived a minute later, and Magnum held his hands up in surrender until one of the uniformed men recognized who he was. All the while, he wondered where Rick was, but assumed his friend was making sure Baldwin was safe.

Thomas told the police there were two more friendlies behind the dumpster before calling out to Rick that it was clear. He expected to see a grinning Rick come out from behind cover with Baldwin in tow, but instead Magnum heard the architect give life to a waking nightmare.

“We need an ambulance!”

Magnum sprinted back to the dumpster and saw Rick sitting up against it, unconscious and bleeding from a wound to his upper chest. He was momentarily struck dumb at the sight, only regaining his senses when he heard:

“Ambulances are already on the way.”

Thomas threw himself down to the ground, uncaring of the spike of pain in his knees. He took the shirt Baldwin thrust in front of him and pushed it into the wound as hard as he could in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The action made Rick groan and shift position, allowing him to notice a smear of blood on the dumpster.

Leaning Rick forward slightly, he discovered an exit wound and the damage it had caused. A police officer with a first aid kit joined them.

“Bullet went through,” he said.

The officer grimaced and nodded, quickly getting out a bandage to apply to the exit wound. Together, they worked to slow the bleeding, as they waited for an ambulance to arrive.

The world around him faded away as he focused on Rick, willing his friend to fight, to stay alive. He wouldn’t be able to bear losing another of his best friends so soon after Nuzo, especially when he was to blame for getting Rick hurt. Just as it was his fault he hadn’t prevented Nuzo from being taken or being found before his friend had been killed. He made a promise to himself that if Rick lived, he would never again ask for help on a case from one of his friends.

_Please, brother. Live. You—_

Thomas was pushed aside mid-thought by a medic, who asked what happened as she began to treat Rick. He tried to answer, but temporarily lost the power of speech once he saw the blood on his hands.

Blood that he was responsible for.

ooooooo

 **Next time:** _Chapter Ten: Waiting_

**ooooooo**


	10. Waiting

**ooooooo**

**Chapter Ten: Waiting**

The paramedic asked him a question, and he must have answered, but Thomas couldn’t remember what had been said by either of them.

Within his immediate area, everything seemed to be going at normal speed, but past him, Rick, and the medic, all was a whirlwind of movement, speeding by at an impossible rate. It was disturbing and dizzying at the same time, and he tried to ignore the effect, choosing to concentrate on the fact that Rick was still breathing and what the paramedic was doing to help his best friend.

When the medics went to take Rick away, he followed the gurney but wasn't allowed in the ambulance. Because of what had happened with Nuzo, he had a sort of flashback to that too-recent time and vehemently – almost frenziedly – protested, worried Rick was not being taken for treatment, but for torture.

That he wouldn’t see his friend alive again.

Magnum was held back by a couple of police officers who wanted to know the circumstances surrounding the shooting. He insisted he would only talk to Tanaka – but at the hospital as he needed to be there for his friend.

Surprisingly enough, the police let him go after he surrendered his gun and showed some ID, providing he allow a police officer to drive him to the hospital. Given how he’d panicked over Rick leaving his sight, Thomas wasn’t all that surprised. He also wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t want to keep an eye on him and Baldwin because the situation was still evolving regarding the architect. In the end, he was thankful, as he didn’t think he’d be able to concentrate on driving.

As they passed Rick’s car, his stomach dropped into his feet at the reminder of how badly he’d screwed up for not seeing the obvious, and how it had led to his friend being badly injured. His old friend Guilt bubbled over again in conjunction with his fear for Rick’s life and how he’d practically stopped caring what might happen to Baldwin. He had to fight to remain in control and not give into the panic that was once again threatening to overwhelm him.

Thomas startled when a phone – _his_ phone – was suddenly thrust in front of his eyes. He’d completely forgotten he didn’t have his phone, barely paying attention as Baldwin apologized for not getting it back to him sooner.

He should call T.C., but Magnum didn’t think he could handle the conversation while a passenger in the back of a police cruiser – not that it would be any easier once they got to the hospital. He just needed a little bit of time to regroup before having to tell T.C. about their friend.

ooooooo

Thomas sat in the waiting room hoping for news about Rick.

Once he’d arrived at the hospital, he’d inquired about his friend and been told Rick had immediately been taken upstairs to be prepped for surgery.

Everything became one giant blur after that. Filling out hospital paperwork. Calling T.C. Dealing with Tanaka. Watching Baldwin be taken into protective custody.

Truthfully, he was glad Baldwin was gone. He’d done the job he’d been asked to do and found the man, though it had come at a price he hoped wouldn’t include Rick’s life.

Aside from the formal interview about the shooting he would need to do, the case was over. He almost didn’t care if he got paid, but hoped the money would come through anyway so he could help with the medical bills. It was the least he could do for his part in getting his friend hurt.

T.C. had been in the air mid-tour when he’d called to inform his friend about Rick. Thomas was equally dreading and anticipating the man’s arrival.

Mostly, he was dreading T.C. hating him for dragging Rick into a situation where their friend was badly injured. The two men had known each other longer, and with Nuzo no longer… Since then, Thomas sometimes wondered how long it would be before his friendship with the two men would disband and T.C. and Rick went back to being their own unit. More than once in his life he’d experienced being the last-one-in, first-one-out when becoming friends with groups of people, so it wouldn’t be anything new for him if it happened. He would’ve eventually adjusted to not having the two men in his life any longer, but so far Rick and T.C. have yet to freeze him out.

They had been through hell together, moved to Hawai’i together, but would this latest incident be the end for their friendship? He knew he no longer deserved Rick’s friendship. If Rick were to… Magnum wouldn’t blame the man if T.C. no longer wanted to be friends and cut him off completely.

As he sat waiting for an update, Thomas began to wonder if it might not be a good idea to leave the islands all together. All he ever did was hurt the people he cared about most in his life, and that had been happening all too often lately. Higgins… Rick… Nuzo… Was T.C. going to be the next?

“Thomas!” a familiar voice called.

Magnum looked up in time to see T.C. enter the room, the man’s expression difficult to read.

T.C. rushed across the space and stopped before him as he rose to greet the man. His friend ran an appraising gaze over him with an expression on his face that was hard to read. Was he looking for injuries? Or, was he trying to decide whether or not to punch him?

He was honestly expecting to be punched, but instead Thomas was gathered into a pair of strong arms and hugged as if he might disappear in the next moment. It took him a long moment before he could relax into the hug, something he much preferred and had apparently really needed.

It gave him hope T.C. might one day forgive him, but it did little to dampen his growing resolve to leave Hawai’i for good.

ooooooo

**Next time:** _Chapter Ten: Blood_

**ooooooo**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tanaka vs. Katsumoto. I’m not sure of the timeline between the pilot and the second episode, but because Tanaka was in the pilot, I decided to go with him for his brief appearance in this story.
> 
> Many thanks to Celticgal1041 for proofing. Any remaining mistakes are my fault.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	11. Blood

**ooooooo**

**Chapter Eleven: Blood**

When T.C. pulled back from the hug, he said, “T.M., you might want to wash your hands. I think you’re making some people nervous.”

Magnum, uncertain what T.C. was talking about, looked down at his hands and saw they were almost completely covered in dry blood – _Rick’s_ blood.

Suddenly, his stomach gave a lurch, and he darted out of the waiting room before practically throwing himself into the men’s room next door. Thomas managed to get to a sink just in time to lose the meagre contents of his stomach. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d last eaten, but nothing more than bile came out.

Fumbling with the faucet, he watched at the water washed the mess down the drain before putting his hands under the water. Swirls of red joined the water as both streams made their way towards the drain. Using more soap than was needed, he began scrubbing his hands clean. He rinsed and then started the process over again.

He heard the door to the restroom open more than once, but ignored the men who went in and out as he focused on getting his hands clean. Repeated washing, plus the heat of the water, made the skin of his hands turn dark pink, and he still didn’t feel as if they were clean enough.

Thomas reached towards the soap dispenser once more, but a familiar, dark-skinned hand halted his progress.

He looked up at T.C. who said, “That’s enough, brother. They’re clean.”

Magnum shook his head, and likely would’ve moved to another sink, had T.C. not shoved a wad of paper towels at him. Mechanically, he dried his hands and tossed the towels into the trash can. The next thing he knew a bottle of water appeared in front of him. He uncapped the bottle, took a small swig of the cool liquid, swished it around, and spit it out, hoping it would help to get rid of the lingering taste of bile in his mouth.

T.C. lightly gripped his elbow and nudged him towards the bathroom’s exit. The care T.C. was showing him was undeserved, especially now, but it was another reminder of how much the other man cared about others. He was going to miss that care when he left the islands.

Before he knew it, he was sitting back in the waiting room with an empty bottle of water in his hands. T.C. was sitting beside him, and he could feel the man’s hand resting on his upper back towards the shoulder. He turned to look at his friend and saw T.C.’s expression relax slightly.

Almost murmuring, T.C. said, “You back with me, man?”

Thomas almost replied with something sarcastic, but ended up saying nothing at all. He set the empty water bottle down on the floor next to a leg of his chair and then rubbed his eyes. How long had he been checked out?

T.C.’s hand shifted towards his neck; it was gently squeezed before the man let go, and stood to head towards the coffee machine. Magnum missed the contact almost immediately, thinking it would be one of the last times he would be able to enjoy the sensation.

When T.C. returned, his friend handed him a cup of coffee. It was sweeter than he preferred, but he figured he needed that about now.

Apparently, T.C. had started speaking, and he’d missed some of what the other man had said.

“—and Juliet volunteered to get the Ferrari and Rick’s Porsche before they’re both towed. She said Kumu was looking forward to driving our boy’s car.”

Magnum nodded, barely grasping what T.C. had said at first, but glad he didn’t have to worry about Robin’s car on top of everything else.

They fell silent as they continued to wait for news on their brother. Magnum’s head was pounding, which wasn’t surprising: the adrenalin crash, lack of food, and too-much coffee contributing to the headache.

As time passed, Thomas continued to wonder when T.C. would tell him off – or punch him out – for leading Rick into trouble and injury, but any reaction of that sort never came. Idly he wondered if he’d missed out on that when he’d not been all with it earlier. Or perhaps T.C. was just waiting to hear about Rick’s condition before turning on him. Whatever the reaction, he’d take it without complaint when it came – he deserved any and all such reactions.

More cups of bad coffee later, a doctor entered the room, calling out their names. They stood and hurried towards the woman, hoping for good news and trying not to read into the doctor’s stoic expression.

She herded them to a relatively quiet corner and said, “Mr. Wright is alive.”

ooooooo

**Next time:** _Chapter Twelve: Alive_

**ooooooo**


	12. Alive

**ooooooo**

**Chapter Twelve: Alive**

Beyond the fact that Rick was alive, Thomas didn’t hear much of the doctor’s explanation of his friend’s condition.

All he cared about was getting the go ahead to see Rick. To see for himself that his friend was alive.

It was a while before he and T.C. were allowed to see Rick, but when Thomas caught his first glimpse of his injured friend, he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave the room again until the man woke up.

Thomas couldn’t remember ever seeing Rick so gravely injured before, and that was including their time spent as POWs. Every time his eyes strayed to the bandages helping to hold his friend together, the same thought ran around and around in his head: _It’s my fault_.

He should’ve realized sooner that someone from TruBuild had kept track of Annie’s movements, hoping to find Sam. He should’ve paid better attention to the feeling that something wasn’t right. He should’ve protected their six better and been more aware of his surroundings during the gunfight. Then, maybe, they wouldn’t have been ambushed from behind like that. Maybe Rick wouldn’t have been injured so badly and facing months of healing and physical therapy.

At the first sight of Rick, his decision was made. He would make sure his friend was firmly on the road to recovery, and then he was gone. Gone from Hawai’i and gone from the lives of those people he’d come to care about on the islands. They would be much safer without him around.

ooooooo

Between the blood loss, the surgery, and a bad reaction to one of his medications, it was more than a day before Rick finally regained consciousness.

Thomas sat by Rick’s side, intensely watching the man breathe in and out, almost paranoid that if he looked away for too long, that his friend would die or perhaps disappear.

When Juliet came by with some clothes, he didn’t understand the need to change until the majordomo pointed out the blood on his shirt. Leaving Rick’s side for those scant minutes left him on just this side of a panic attack, but he knew T.C. wouldn’t leave the man alone while he was gone.

T.C. tried to talk to him from time to time, but Thomas wasn’t in the mood for conversation, or hearing about everything he’d done wrong on this case, and they sat, mostly silent, by Rick’s bed from then on. He refused to leave to take a break outside or to get some food, and would’ve gone without if it weren’t for someone, he couldn’t recall who, bringing him food and drink. He mechanically ate and drank, not tasting anything but ashes, but knowing his body needed the nourishment.

When visiting hours had ended that day, Magnum had almost been banned from the hospital for refusing to leave. Somehow, someone managed to convince the hospital administration it was a better for the patient if a friend was there just in case Rick woke up fighting due to the gunfight and/or his time as POW.

Once everyone else left for the night, Thomas positioned his chair close to the bed but on the side opposite of Rick’s injury. He laid a hand on the man’s forearm, the warm skin a constant reminder the injured man was still alive.

ooooooo

Thomas was startled awake by the screaming of alarms from the machines monitoring Rick. He nearly fell out of his chair, but managed to catch himself just as medical personnel started streaming in. A nurse forced him out of the room despite his protests as the doctors started trying to figure out what was wrong with Rick.

A curtain had been drawn but he could hear what was going on, and everything that was being said, the noises he was hearing all led to one conclusion – Rick was dying.

He just couldn’t understand how that could be happening. Every indication from the doctors had been that Rick would recover, needing physical therapy to get back the full use of his arm once the injury healed.

Suddenly, he thought of T.C., and reached for his phone, but it wasn’t there.

More alarms went off, immediately distracting him from his phone. There were increased demands for this and that. He heard the defibrillator go off multiple times. More demands by the doctor.

Until… There was silence.

And then, moments later, Thomas Magnum heard three words he never expected to hear when he when he decided to take Annie Baldwin’s case.

He began falling to his knees in despair and guilt as he heard: _“Time of death—”_

ooooooo

Landing on the floor, Thomas was jolted awake by the sudden pain in his knees and left elbow.

Wide-eyed and breathing heavily, Magnum looked around him. He wasn’t in the hallway. He was still in Rick’s room. There were no alarms, and he could hear the regular rhythm of his friend’s heart on the monitors.

As he levered himself up off the floor, he kept reminding himself that it had just been a dream, a nightmare. Rick was alive and well. He hadn’t killed one of his best friends with his recklessness and stupidity.

He was about to sit back down in the uncomfortable chair, when he noticed Rick’s eyes were open, the man looking concerned.

With a scratchy voice, Rick said, “You ‘K, Tommy?”

ooooooo

**Next time:** _Chapter Thirteen: Awake_

**ooooooo**


	13. Awake

**ooooooo**

**Chapter Thirteen: Awake**

Thomas completely ignored Rick’s question in favor of saying, “About time you woke up, pal.”

He smiled, trying to project an aura of ‘ _I’m fine. Nothing to see here_.’ as he lifted a cup of water towards his friend’s mouth and let him take a couple of sips from the straw. As he drank, Rick’s eyes roamed the length and breadth of him as if checking for injuries. Despite his friend having just regained consciousness, Magnum could tell from the other man’s expression that he hadn’t fooled Rick.

Magnum was anticipating one of a few different comments and/or questions in response and would be happy if he didn’t have to hear or answer any of them. He decided that avoidance was the best way to continue on.

“Thomas—” Rick started, but Magnum quickly interrupted.

He started to back away from the bed as he said, “I’m going to go get your doctor; they’re going to want to know you’ve stopped being lazy.” On his way out the door, Thomas added, “I’m gonna call T.C. too.”

After informing someone about Rick, Magnum called T.C., who was thankfully close by, already on his way to the hospital. He couldn’t help but hope that the man would be there before the doctors were done checking on his injured friend and he’d be allowed back into the room. He really didn’t want to go back in alone and be subjected to Rick’s questions.

And therein lay the Catch-22, the conundrum, the irony.

He was well aware the medical professionals would insist on him being out of the room while they checked on their patient. That fact actually worked well with his avoidance plan. Being able to stay away from the room, however, was a whole other matter.

He didn’t seem to be able to stand down in regards to watching over Rick, that having failed him once, he would not do so again. This contradicted his decision to leave Hawai’i as he’d need to start pulling back and away from not only Rick, but T.C. as well in order to prepare for his departure. Basically, the inside of his head was a giant mass of conflicting emotions with a heaping side of indecision to make life easier.

As a SEAL, the only easy day was yesterday, but the only way forward now was one breath, one minute, and one step at a time.

ooooooo

Magnum released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding once he shut the door of Robin’s guest house. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the door in exhaustion for a moment, before opening his eyes and forcing himself to continue moving inside.

It had been tough to let go of his self-imposed guard duty. T.C. had basically had to push him out of the room once he’d arrived, promising to stay with Rick until visiting hours were over. Now that Rick was conscious and aware of where he was, the doctor would no longer allow visitors outside of scheduled hours. He would’ve had to leave sooner or later, so it had been best to make a clean break not long after he and T.C. had been allowed into Rick’s room. Plus, it fit in with his plan of avoiding any real conversation with Rick, so there was that.

After taking a long shower, he started making plans to leave Hawai’i and start over somewhere else. Before he could even begin thinking about where to go, his first obstacle reared its ugly, yet not uncommon, head.

His finances. Or, more accurately, his _lack_ of finances.

Even after all of this time, he was still having trouble with getting the money he was owed from his mother’s estate. Apparently, being the primary beneficiary doesn’t mean a whole lot when you’re a POW and someone else takes advantage of the situation.

That whole mess was still being worked out, and he basically only got dribs and drabs of money from his mother’s estate from time to time. This was not one of those times, and relocating to/from the islands could be quite expensive, even when you don’t have a car to ship back to the mainland.

The money he made, assuming he was paid, from the Baldwin case was going directly towards Rick’s medical bills, because there was no way he was going to profit off a friend almost dying. Besides, a good chunk of the money already belonged to the man for his help working the case.

That meant the case’s expenses were on his own dime, which didn’t leave much for moving away, or anything else for that matter.

He would need to find some work quickly, and live as frugally as possible in the meantime, until he had enough money to leave the island.

ooooooo

**Next time:** _Chapter Fourteen: Money_

**ooooooo**

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Celticgal1041 for proofing even though it’s her birthday story. Any remaining mistakes are my fault – for now. ;o)
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> *Please do not repost or use this or any of my other works on another site or app without my knowledge or consent. FanFiction and Archive of Our Own are the only two sites (as AZGirl on both) where my fiction should be posted. Thank you!


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